


Voyeur

by mickeym



Category: Backstreet Boys
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-07
Updated: 2002-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howie watches AJ pleasure himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeur

AJ jerking off.

It wasn't like he'd never seen it before, right? After all, years of sharing rooms, buses, lives…they'd all seen each other jerk off at one time or another. Even Nick, though that was an image Howie preferred not to have hanging in his mind for too long. Sex and a guy he thought of as his little brother…it was almost like imagining the words 'parents' and 'sex' in the same sentence.

But this wasn't the same. This was AJ. Who he not only didn't think of as a little brother, he was about the sexiest thing alive on two legs. He could do what no one else Howie knew could, and that was _be_ sex. Like it was something that could come to life, rabid and hungry, growling and nipping at you.

It made his hands shake, to think about it.

At some point he'd become accustomed to seeing…things. AJ naked, AJ turned-on, AJ jerking off. He got used to it as a sort of white noise; oh, look, AJ. Sex. Cool. But white noise is missed when it's turned off, and the separate hotel rooms and buses they maintained now, thanks to their 'status', didn't afford him the chance to see that embodiment of sex very often, any more. Mostly on-stage, when they were all hot and hard, excited by the performance, turned on by the roar of the crowd and the heightened sexuality in the air. That wasn't the same.

He missed it.

It wasn't even that he wanted to touch AJ so much -- well, he did, and he certainly wouldn't say no, if the opportunity presented itself, but that wasn't what this was about. It was more like just wanting to…be there. Seeing the process of turning from well, AJ, into living Sex. Absorbing the energy projected. Peeking in on something that could electrify or electrocute you, depending on how the energy was directed.

So, missing it, he thought he might try seeking it out. Just--be in the right place at the right time. If he was tired and full, and sleeping, AJ wouldn't kick him out. And maybe…maybe.

Howie sprawled out over AJ's bed, glad he didn't have to lie about being close to passed out -- tired and full was pretty much the truth -- and thought about the shower currently running. Visualizing his friend naked, droplets of water gathering, growing, streaming down over honey-colored skin dark with ink. Of steam and heat turning that skin a flushed pink beneath the many dark lines and swirls of the tats. He closed his eyes and saw visions and images painted across the backs of his eyelids, of AJ stroking his hands down his chest, fingers rough and quick as they skated over pebbled nipples, down over ripped abs, edging around his navel. Perhaps they slowed there, maybe he traced the 69 that swirled and teased the eye. Maybe his fingertips rubbed the edge of his navel, dipping in quickly to the shallow indent, a nasty parody of other things; things he might or might not do.

Howie shuddered, thinking about fingers and tongues, and different ways of applying them to sensitive skin.

The shower shut off, and it was all Howie could do not to moan softly; he hadn't gotten far enough in his fantasy vision. Just far enough to be aching beneath his shorts, ready for the rest of the show and totally unsure if he'd get it.

He shifted his sprawl and moved onto his side, curled in on himself with the sheet bunched up over him to hide his erection, then closed his eyes and practiced breathing slowly, deeply, slowly; he wanted -- needed -- AJ to think he was asleep. Wanted it to be safe in case AJ wanted…to do something.

When the door opened he missed a beat in his breathing, and when nothing else happened, he wondered if AJ'd come into the room yet. He dared a peek beneath barely-slitted eyelids and saw his friend standing beside the bed, only a towel around his waist, an amused look on his face.

"I know you're not asleep, D. Might as well give it up."

Howie uncurled himself just enough to raise his head and look into bemused eyes. "How'd you know?"

AJ shook his head and grinned. "And how many years have we known each other? Fuck, man. You stayin' here tonight?"

"If it's okay?" Suddenly, Howie wasn't sure what he wanted, or what he should do. He tensed to move, was reminded of his still-aching erection, not as hard as a few minutes ago, but still there. Still wanting--something.

"Sure, man. You know I don't care." AJ clicked the light off and dropped the towel, and Howie sucked in a breath and bit down on his lip. It wasn't fair. He'd seen AJ naked so many times he wasn't supposed to react -- at all! -- but, shit. AJ cocked his head. "Problem?"

"Uh. No. I mean--no."

"Good." But he stood there a moment longer, watching Howie watch him. And in the moonlight, with just a small slice of light from under the door to the connecting room -- Howie's room, actually -- to help, AJ looked…incredible. Definitely sex come to life. Lean and muscular, his body a contrast of light and shadow, with the lines from the various tats looking like script from ancient scrolls. Howie had a sudden image of AJ as a canvas of papyrus, with someone dipping a fine-point stylus into him, pressing and moving, until the words and designs were permanent marks, a testimony to someone's vision. Add in to that the metal gleaming shiny against the dark, picking up and throwing back bits of light, dark eyes that watched him now, hooded and lazy, but like a predator, always keenly aware, and the muscles that flexed and moved, even while he was still and silent--oh, yes. AJ was predator, hunter, Sex waiting to happen.

Howie swallowed roughly in the warm darkness, skin too tight, too small when he realized AJ was half-hard, cock long and thick, swelling as he looked on. While he watched, unable to pull his eyes away, AJ reached down and stroked himself, fingers skating lightly along his length, skimming gently over the head, tugging at the piercing. Howie swallowed again, reminded himself that breathing really was a necessary thing.

"See something you like, D?"

He nodded mutely, his hand aching to reach down and touch himself. Just to touch, to relieve a little of the ache.

"Was there something…you wanted?" Holy shit. AJ's voice dropped to a low, rumbling purr; the words barely registering as such, rather as sounds that vibrated inside Howie, running up and down his nervous system, tingling every nerve they touched. Electrified, not electrocuted. He cleared his throat.

"Um. Could you. Touch--yourself?" His face flamed hotly and for a moment he couldn't quite believe he'd actually said the words. Then AJ smiled, no, it wasn't a _smile_. It wasn't amusement. It was…it was having that sex turned on him, pointed toward him. Predatory, dangerous, hot in a nuclear-explosion-imminent sort of way. Toward him. He shuddered.

"You want to watch me jerk off?" He stroked himself more purposefully, still standing beside the bed, confident and beautiful in the shadowy light. Howie nodded breathlessly.

"Please."

"Are you going to?" AJ cupped himself, fingers curling around his cock, squeezing lightly. Howie stuttered.

"I--don't know. Maybe. I…I think so."

AJ nodded. "That'd be hot, man." He climbed onto the bed and lay back, one arm behind his head, a lazy, thoughtful look on his face, as he stroked himself slowly.

Hot? Howie thought he might just incinerate right then, right there. _Hot_ didn't even begin to cover it.

He shifted more onto his side and propped himself on one elbow, watching AJ. His eyes were only half-open, but they couldn't hide the heat gleaming from within. AJ abandoned his cock, brought his hand to his mouth to suck in two fingers, coating them slickly. He sucked like he had a dick in his mouth, tongue flashing as he moved them in and out slowly. When Howie was sure he would go insane just from watching AJ suck his own fingers, he slid them out of his mouth and stroked them down his throat, arching his head back to give Howie an unblocked view. He traced a wet path -- Howie could see the dampness gleaming on AJ's skin in the near-darkness -- down the center of his chest, then deviated to circle first one nipple, then the other before putting his fingers back in his mouth.

Wet noises filled the air around them and Howie shifted uncomfortably, his cock hard and aching. He'd told AJ he would…might…jerk off, but if he did, it would be after this. He wanted to watch, wanted to experience this fully. Even if it killed him.

AJ's nipples were standing up tightly, knotted bits of flesh shimmering wetly in the moonlight, and Howie only barely bit back a soft moan when AJ plucked and pinched at them, both hands now, fingertips rubbing tight circles around his chest, his pecs, returning repeatedly to pull at the tender buds. He arched lightly into his own touch, breath coming faster, a little rougher than it had before.

His cock stood up, arcing back toward his belly, full and hard now, tip glistening damply, the ring there looking dangerous, sexy, symbolic of what AJ was.

Howie thought his might be doing the same thing, and reached down to rub once, just enough to make him have to bite back another moan.

AJ looked at him then, and oh, god. His eyes were inky black, dark shadows within the shadows of the room, blazing with a heat Howie'd never seen before. He squirmed under that look, whimpered softly, hunger rising within him from the rawness of the gaze raking over him. He pinched the head of his cock, felt the thin liquid spreading over the soft cotton of his boxers. His own touch burned, and he thought if AJ ever touched him, he would just explode. Poof, no more Howie.

But AJ didn't touch him. Instead he splayed his fingers over his belly, rubbing and patting, stroking slowly down toward his cock. He skimmed around his bellybutton, like Howie'd envisioned earlier, then wet one finger in his mouth before rimming it. He held Howie's eyes with his as he teased himself, and Howie thought again of tongues and wet and other, darker places that could be touched and teased. AJ licked his lips and arched off the bed, just a quick buck of his hips, and two separate, soft groans met in the darkness, swirled around them together.

Long, lean fingers carded through dark, crinkly hair, and AJ circled his cock again, fingers spreading the moisture leaking from the tip, painting himself. He teased mercilessly, himself and Howie both, fingernail poking and pulling at the small slit, fingers tugging at the ring piercing there, and Howie lost track of how many times he'd touched himself 'just once' now, instead settled for a slow, easy stroking while he watched AJ lose himself in his growing need.

AJ kept one hand on his chest, roaming, moving, caressing while he fondled and rubbed himself, and Howie was torn between watching the fingers pinching and pulling at dark nipples, or the hand stroking faster, more rhythmically now. When AJ spread his legs wide and braced himself against the bed, Howie pulled his dick out of his shorts and stroked faster, mirroring AJ's movements. He slowed down again, not wanting to miss anything, not wanting his brain to short-circuit yet, because he knew he would, when AJ came.

Already he could tell AJ was close; he had his head thrown back, panting harshly, hips working up into each stroke of his hand. He gripped the sheets with the other hand, anchoring himself while he bucked and jerked, the muscles sliding and bunching under his skin with each movement. Howie watched AJ tug at his piercing with each downward stroke and shuddered, watched AJ shudder. He gleamed wetly now, body sheened with sweat, and that made the motions seem fluid, liquid heat formed into movement.

AJ arched hard then, back bowing, and shoved his pelvis upward, and a growl filled the room as thick streaks of white covered his belly, coated his fingers. He growled again and stroked fast and hard a few more times, milking himself, then sank back to the mattress breathing rough and heavy. He turned his head and locked eyes with Howie, then smiled fiercely and offered his hand.

Howie felt the shockwave of sensation start at the base of his spine and spread outward; he was vaguely aware of taking AJ's hand, of putting those wet, sticky fingers to his mouth, of sucking them in and shuddering at the salt-bitter taste that filled his mouth, but then the shockwave hit completely and his brain exploded at the same time his cock did, an orgasm that burned its way down every nerve, every fiber, each cell of his body.

Dimly he heard AJ growl, then a soft -- softer than he'd expected -- mouth touched his, a light press of lips, warm tongue sliding slickly over his lips before he moaned and opened, letting AJ's tongue in to explore. It was warm and comforting, and sexy, but not in a have-to-have-you-right-now sort of way; they'd burned that hunger out for the moment. Howie shifted and rolled into AJ's arms, letting him deepen the kiss, explore new territory, tasting the promise of heat and hunger when they'd both recovered.

Maybe watching had more perks than he'd realized.

~fin~

 


End file.
